impasse of the soul

I wish life had an undo button. I wish I could go back at the time and place where all the daily crap could be brushed off as not relevant. I have no idea how other people can be happy with the way things are, I can't. I am bailing out.

Colorful dust falls from the sky, but I cannot touch it. And soon, I will not even want to touch it. I shot my own capacity for happiness in the stomach by being a people-pleasuring idiot, I want my fucking self to crawl into a hole and die.

People smell of sun lotion in a crowded bus to nowhere, my electronic devices hate me, and in a sense, who can blame them. They're trying to get away from me every way they can.

I always had the abstract idea, in my mind, that things will somehow turn out to be okay, that there's something for everyone, that there's always some way out, if you just think things through long enough and ask enough people for advice, stick around and try to make things right.

The truth is, there's no such thing as okay. Trying to fix one thing always ends up messing it up worse, or creating an unforeseen problem. Like I told my psychologist in October, life has some very stupid errors in the source code, debugging it is virtually impossible, and like I have recently realized, you can try and try and try and the misery will never go away.

I am never happy. In fact, I am incapable of emotions outside the regret-guilt-resentment-anxiety-anger range. And I have no freaking idea what to do about it, nothing seems to work, not meditation, not talking it out, not positive thinking, not escapism, nothing. When I wake up in the mornings, I get this feeling that I am somehow loading myself, my past and my attitudes onto my brain, a split second after waking up. It's a strain, to go through the day with myself resting so heavily on my shoulders, I wish I could just get a new one. But even that wouldn't work.